Let it go
by Yoshishisha
Summary: After a sudden trip to the mountain, Harry finds himself alone and stranded in the snow. Alone and scared, he will have to accept his powers in order to survive. But since when was it possible to find a magical talking snowman in the middle of nowhere?
1. Let it go

Harry couldn't believe it. They'd abandoned him! The Dursleys! That shouldn't have been so surprising considering that there was no love lost between him and them, but to believe that they'd actually leave him? He'd never even envisioned that. He let out a wry grin as he imagined the explanations they'd invent to justify his absence: Petunia would probably be thrilled to have him out her house.

_'The snow glows white on the mountain tonight, not a footprint to be seen'_

In hindsight, he should have suspected something when the Dursleys had told him of their sudden idea to go for a weekend of hiking in the mountains. After all, since when did they ever like doing any sort of strenuous activity? As a matter of fact, the very idea of putting his relatives and physical activity in the same sentence almost caused his mind to short-circuit. Now, however, he only had those _less than pleasing _thoughts for company amidst the glowing whiteness of the snow.

_'A kingdom of isolation, and it looks like I'm the queen'_

He'd always been lonely before, but at least there had been other people around him. Now? Now he was alone, and he could no longer pretend that the opposite was true. Here, in those mountains, he was the only one, king of an empty hill.

_'The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside'_

It was then that the emotions hit him: terror, anger, sadness, loneliness... All of them swirling around him, alongside some others that his young mind couldn't identify. They burdened so much that he had trouble standing straight and ended up falling down a small snowy hill.

_'Couldn't keep it in; heaven knows I've tried'_

Harry broke down crying as he remembered all his efforts. He'd tried to find books about concentration, tried to stay in control, even tried to stop feeling any and all emotions in order to keep his powers in check. Nothing had seemed to work. Everyone even thought him to be more of a freak because of that, due to his apparent absence of emotions.

_'Don't let them in, don't let them see, be the good girl you always have to be'_

So he'd hidden it. Done chores in order to exhaust himself so that he wouldn't have enough energy to call upon his powers, hidden himself in his cupboard every time there was a visit so they would never discover how much of a freak he was...

_'Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know'_

The Dursleys had helped him with that, ironically enough. They'd spread rumours about him around the neighbourhood, and Dudley had scared all the other children away from him, making any potential friend too afraid to do anything. At least, that way, no one would ever know, right?

_'Well now they know!'_

It was then that an epiphany hit him. What did it matter in the end? He was all alone anyways - always had been, always would be - and everyone had always known that there was something strange with him; they just couldn't put their fingers on a specific detail.

_'Let it go, let it go. Can't hold it back anymore'_

He felt a sudden rush of muted energy at that realization, as if all the power he'd kept locked up inside himself had found a way out and was curiously peeking outside. Carefully, he let it rush through his fingers, immediately making the snow melt around them and uncovering the small patch of snow hidden beneath.

_'Let it go, let it go. Turn away and slam the door.'_

Standing up, he let the warmth of his finally unrestrained power rush through him, leaving a pleasantly warm feeling throughout his body. He let the snow underneath his feet smooth into ice as he felt his powers smash through the metaphorical door he'd put up in order to keep them in check.

_'I don't care what they're going to say'_

He felt free for the first time he could remember, because he didn't have to worry about anyone's reactions. Who cared what they all thought? They weren't with him anymore, and if he had his way, they would never hold any say over him ever again.

_'Let the storm rage on'_

He did - briefly - wonder about the neighbourhood's reaction when the Dursleys got back without him, but he rapidly chased those thoughts out of his head. In the best of cases, people would finally realize that they weren't the perfectly normal family they portrayed themselves to be and if not,

_'The cold never bothered me anyways'_

He was free.

* * *

**There'll be some elements of Frozen other than the song, but only one character will come in - I'm sure you already know which one *hint hint, read the summary* - but you won't need to have seen the movie to understand. **

**Please leave a review if you've got time. I know it's not perfect, but any way to make this story better would be appreciated.**

**Thank you!**


	2. Thinking

Harry was getting cold. He didn't want to complain about the temperature – he was on a mountain after all, it was expected – but he couldn't fight the shivers that wracked his body as he felt the cold seep through his bones. Letting out a weary sigh, he kept walking, unwilling to stop and become a living icicle. _At least, _he thought morosely as he raised his eyes to view the blue sky above, _it's not snowing yet._

He then promptly stopped that train of thought as fast as he possibly could, praying to all the deities whose name he could remember – and there were surprisingly a lot – that he had not jinxed himself with that careless thought. Sucking in a quick breath to steady himself, the boy froze and stopped his intake of air as he surveyed his surroundings again, waiting for some sort of cataclysm to happen as a consequence of karma.

It was at that moment that he realized how silent the place was. Eerily so, in fact. Not that he'd expected to find a lot of wildlife, but still… As a matter of fact, the last time he could remember hearing such silence was when he'd been locked up in his cupboard while Dudley had gone to the amusement park (and even then, he'd managed to hear some noise from the street).

Confronted with such a heavy silence, Harry sought ways to break it (other than by the sounds of his footsteps in the snow) in order to re-establish his peace of mind. _Now,_ the boy wondered absently,_ should I try to sing or should I talk to myself instead? _Not wanting to seem any crazier than he already was, Harry figured that a deserted mountain would be the best place to try his non-existent singing talents out (there wouldn't be anyone to witness his no doubt disastrous attempts anyways).

Hesitantly, he began: "…" and immediately came up short, belatedly realizing that he had no idea what to sing about . After all, the Dursleys hadn't considered letting him watch the telly (they had, in fact, taken the utmost care in forbidding it), and during the rare times in which he'd managed to catch a glimpse of the show his cousin had been watching – something about strange animals coming out from red and white balls and a lightning mouse, he believed – Harry hadn't had the chance to listen to an entire song, let alone remember its lyrics.

Pondering his options, Harry decided that he would find a song later, and proceeded to talk to himself instead in order to fill the disconcerting silence.

"At least they gave me boots," the young boy remarked, glancing down at his covered – and dry – feet. "Well, sure, they're a bit too big for me, but then again, what isn't?" he continued as he tugged on his too large coat (it wasn't even his, but used to belong to his cousin until the colour wasn't _in _anymore).

Abruptly, he stopped, realizing that he was facing quite an important conundrum: "Where am I even going?" he asked incredulously. He then looked around himself, taking care of noting all the destinations available to him. "Do I want to go down the mountain? Nope, I don't think so. There are folks down there. But do I want to go up? Nope, still don't think so. Teacher said you can't breathe up there. But do I want to stay here? Nope, that's where they'll looking for me I reckon…"

The boy cut off his speech, fully aware of the fact that he was mostly spouting nonsensical babble. Most of his available courses of action revoked – mostly due to his aversion to coming in contact with any more representant of the human species in the near future – Harry finally opted for the less common choice. "I'll have to go round the mountain then," he confirmed out loud.

After all, it was highly possible that he'd find some sort of forest to sleep in if he looked on the other side of the mountain. He'd had to sleep out once when the Dursleys had gotten guests to sleep over at Privet Drive. It hadn't been pleasant, but at least it had happened towards the beginning of fall, when the weather was still chilly, but not too cold. According to his experience, everything would be more simple if he could only find a comfortable branch to lie on before he tried to make himself a durable shelter.

Decision taken, Harry merrily skipped off to the side of the mountain, absently composing a song at the same time.

"_I'm going to find a tree, with bright green leaves in it._

_And I'll sleep in that tree, with bright green leaves in it._

_Then I'll get off the tree, with bright green leaves in it._

_Then I'll go find another tree, with bright green leaves in it."_

So caught up was he in the song (and it was completely fantastic, in his humble opinion) that he didn't realize that another voice had joined him in the middle of it. He abruptly stopped, attempting to hear if anyone was approaching. "Who's there?" he asked suspiciously as he looked around himself.

"That all sounds so very awesome, but there aren't any more leaves in the trees."

Following the sound of the unknown voice, Harry turned around as slowly as he reasonably could. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" he screamed as he saw the unknown creature.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" was the only answer he got before the mountain rumbled and buried him in white.

* * *

**Sorry for updating later than I said I would. My bad. But I gave you a slightly longer chapter in excuse.**

**Just warning you, I'm gonna put this story in the crossover section, as it has been pointed out to me that it should be there.**

**And lastly, I'd like to thank **_Blackraven4400_ and _Kittyaceres_ for reviewing on the very first day, _**Kairan1979**_ for giving me a wicked idea of revenge on the Dursleys, **_Yali_ and _sukilala_ for adding me to their favourite already, and all of you who are following this story, meaning **_Blackraven4400_, ****************_Yali_, _dreaming of rocketships_, _shlakvuck_, _sukilala_, _vivekgk3_, _Shadowsmage_ and _avalanchexx_. You're all awesome, thank you!  
********


	3. Meeting

When Harry regained a dazed state resembling consciousness, it was to the sound of an oddly chipper voice that he seemed to recognize, all the while being unable to associate it with any face he could remember.

"Ooh… Hey! Are you still sleeping?" the voice said moments before the boy sat down (or up in this case). "Say, could you look here for a moment? No, not there, I said here! See? Follow my voice, I'm here. You know, on the snow? Not, not THAT snow, THIS snow. The white one…"

Confused as to the mixed instructions he was receiving, Harry attempted to locate the voice, to no avail. Paying little attention to the nonsensical babble washing over him, he then looked around himself to take note of his surroundings, belatedly wondering he wasn't in his cupboard anymore. _I must still be dreaming_, the boy concluded for lack of a better theory. That would explain the strangeness of his surroundings, as well as the fact that there was a disembodied voice still chattering away somewhere in the background.

Of course, his simple presence on a mountain of all things was also a pretty big hint as to the fact that he wasn't exactly in touch with reality at the moment. After all, in what crazy alternate dimension would the Dursleys have decided to take a stroll up a mountain – of all dumb things to do – especially if he were to consider the fact that he'd been brought along with them on the excursion. The thought caused snickers to escape him before…

Wait a minute… The Dursleys..?

As if he'd been figuratively shot, Harry abruptly straightened from his lazy slouch and was swept away by the memories of events that had occurred scant moments prior: the hike, the abandonment, the freedom, the loneliness, the creepy living thing, the mountain rumbling…

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on the point of view) something chose that moment to deliver a strong hit to Harry's backside, thus forcing him out of his musings.

"Ouch!" The young boy yelled as he turned his head around in order to better glare at whatever had hit him.

His anger deflated slightly to leave more place for confusion at the strange construct that met his sight: was that... a snowball with feet? Harry looked around some more, but let his gaze return to the footed snowball when he didn't manage to find anything else close enough to have potentially hit him. _Could it be... magic?_ he wondered as he felt his insides churn at the idea that maybe he wasn't the only freak in the world, if someone had made a moving footed snowball.

"Did you just... hit me?" he asked for clarification, all the while feeling quite ridiculous.

''Me? Hit you? No...'' the voice said hesitantly, faux innocence positively oozing from its tone. "Say, could you bring my body here, please?" it continued quickly, obviously attempting – and failing – to subtly change the subject.

Harry stood up at the strange request and fruitlessly turned around, trying to locate what should logically be the head by following the sound of its voice. After a while, he let the footed snowball return to his line of sight and absently wondered as to how the strange creature could still be alive even when dismembered. If he needed anymore proof as to the existence of magic, this would be it.

"Follow me, I'll show you where the rest of me is," the voice chirped while the body nudged Harry's foot. Having given up on pondering upon the strangeness of his situation, the young boy simply decided to give up on logic and follow the footed snowball.

All the while, the chipper voice kept chattering away, thus providing Harry with another clue to his destination. "Oh! And I think you're a very good singer too, Mr Stranger, because your song with the trees was amaaaazing! I'm quite the songwriter myself, you know? Sometimes, I even close my eyes and think about what I used to do in summer…"

Whereas the first part of that small speech was said in the voice's usual hyper tone, the last sentence had an almost dreamy quality to it, which was what somewhat warned Harry about the actions that would follow.

Indeed, the footed snowball had guided him to the head from which emanated the voice just in time to hear it start an old fashion style song about "whatever snow does in summer". The head was completely made of snow, except for what seemed to be a broken carrot sticking out of the space that most probably represented its nose. The fact that said head was sheathed in a big rock didn't seem to deter the creature from singing its dream of tanning on the beach, surprisingly enough. Harry stood frozen in front of the strange spectacle until he realized that another snowball – with two arm-like sticks sticking out of it this time – had to be stopped from rolling down the mountain. And he ran as fast as he could in order to do so, because he had done enough hide and seek with only a voice and a footed snowball as guides for the day.

Once he'd managed to put back together the pieces of what he could now recognize as being a snowman – a living, moving, talking, _singing_ one – the child proceeded to blurt out the question that had been burning on the tip of his tongue for quite a while.

"Just exactly… who are you?" he asked confusedly – and he had to admit at least to himself that the only reason he had chosen "who" and not "what" was due to the fact that the latter designation may have been more than slightly offensive. _Not that such a strange snowman seems like he could be offended by anything_, he mused silently as he awaited an answer to his question.

"I'm Olaf the snowman!" the rather small being – he was about a head smaller than Harry, who wasn't that tall himself – chirped happily. "And let me guess your name…"

The snowman prowled around the boy, only stopping momentarily to poke at random places and occasionally hmming and aahing while the young one stood ramrod still, as if he could feel the heavy weight of judgement upon his frail shoulders. The newly-dubbed Olaf then stopped his movements, as if having come to a final decision about Harry.

"Your name… Is obviously Sven, then!"

Harry still didn't move, but this time it was out of puzzlement rather than apprehension.

"What?"

* * *

**So there it is! Harry and Olaf's first official meeting officially made this fic a crossover.**

**I'd once again like to thank _Blackraven4400 _for leaving me another review, as well as _**Saissister****,****_ Woef,_**_**and ****_DeliaDe _for following this story, with _**Saissister**_ following it too!****

****I hope you enjoyed this chapter, so please leave a review if you can to tell me what you thought :)****

****Next Saturday, you'll get a discussion between Harry and Olaf as well as the reason why Olaf is on the mountain in the first place. ********Have a nice weekend!****


	4. Talking

After having spent longer than he'd have liked to trying to convince the hyper snowman that no, his name wasn't Sven – "Harry, just Harry", he'd repeated several times – that no, he didn't have a reindeer following him around and that no, he didn't think there was anyone else but the two of them on this mountain, Harry thanked the sky (and cursed the Dursleys) for his non-violent nature: else, he might have decapitated the annoying snowman already (not that it'd be very useful, according to what he'd seen).

However, despite the onslaught of questions he'd bombarded the poor boy with, Olaf still seemed to have more inquiries.

"But how did you get up this mountain then, if there's no one else, hmmm?" he questioned as though imitating some sort of comical frozen detective. "You're much too tiny to climb up a mountain by yourself," the snowman added decisively.

Harry was tempted to let the accidentally disparaging comment slide by force of habit until he realized that he no longer needed to fear the consequences of defending himself and speaking his mind.

"I am not tiny!" he argued firmly as he drew himself to his full height (not that it was that impressive, but it did give him a wicked sense of power).

"Are too~" was the infuriating response from the snowman, delivered in an annoying singsong tone of voice.

"Am not!"

"Are too~"

"Am not!"

"Are too~"

"Am not! And you're tinier than me anyways, so you shouldn't mock my size like that."

Such was the final answer from the boy as he decisively crossed his arms over his chest and stomped off further around the mountain in order to stave off any further argument. No way was he going to lose an arguing battle against a snowman, regardless of the fact that said snowman seemed to be a sentient being. He had his pride, dammit.

"But it's not the same because I'm a snowman!" Olaf replied as though it explained everything (and maybe, for him, it did).

"And…?" Harry asked leadingly, unable to see the point that the other was trying to make.

He immediately experienced the unsettling feeling of being gawked at by a living snowman as if he was some sort of strange exotic creature (which, he discovered, wasn't that great of a feeling).

"You mean you don't know?" Olaf gasped eyes wide in shock and hands over his (probably) non-existent heart.

"Know what?" was the mildly irritated answer from the young boy, who didn't like the fact that he found himself in a perpetual state of confusion when interacting with the chipper snowman.

Said snowman had shortened the distance between the two of them and was currently beckoning Harry's face closer to his. All the while, Olaf had been throwing furtive glance around himself, as thought he feared being overheard by something – not necessarily someone anymore, because who knew what else could exist besides a strange talking snowman?

_Curiosity killed the cat_, Harry uselessly chided himself as he brought his face closer to his interlocutor's cautiously. A caution that turned out to be unnecessary, because the snowman started speaking in what he probably thought to be a whisper.

"Maybe you haven't realized, but…"

There, Olaf threw another few cautious glances around, as though he was about to reveal a secret of national importance. This prompted Harry to lean even further down, eager to not miss a word of what would be said.

"I'm a snowman," was the unexpected reply delivered with a finger on the lips as a sign to stay mum about the subject.

Harry deflated abruptly, all his previous excitement gone. That wasn't the secret of national importance he'd been expecting… "So?" the boy stated rather drily, unable to hide the disappointment he felt.

He once again had the dubious pleasure of being gawked at by Olaf, but along with the gaping mouth, this time. "I am made of snow…" was the very slow reply. "The mountain is made of snow," Olaf kept explaining as though talking to a particularly dimwitted child. "Snow is cold…" he continued as he waved his arms around for emphasis and leant further, as though waiting for Harry to make some sort of connection.

Tired of standing still – and not wanting to sit down, because that would mean freezing his arse off in the snow – Harry began to pace in order to find a suitably intelligent connection. Right at the moment when he felt that he'd have to disappoint Olaf, because he couldn't seem to find one, it suddenly hit him.

"Since I am so… tiny," he began, cringing at the last word – he was NOT tiny dammit, the rest of the world was just too tall! – "it means that I would have trouble walking long distances in the snow without freezing or dying, right?" he assumed, hoping that he'd said the right answer.

"And we have a winner!" Olaf exclaimed as he grabbed a bunch of snow and threw it in the air in a manner oddly reminiscent of a lottery animator with confetti.

Fidgeting slightly under the praise, Harry confirmed the proverb "attack is the best defense" instead of acknowledging the compliment.

"And I wasn't alone anyways," the boy huffed as he kept on walking, arms crossed over his chest. "I came here with… people," he ended lamely, unwilling to acknowledge the Dursleys as relatives.

"Oooh," Olaf responded, letting that strange mouth of his form a perfect circle. He quickly shut it back closed and quickened his pace in order to shorten the distance between the both of them, because Harry walked pretty fast for someone his size. "Is it like a field trip then? Or an adventure?" he asked excitedly, seemingly forgetting the matter of the people Harry came with, to the boy's relief.

Harry turned his head at those questions, and almost tripped when he saw that Olaf's eyes seemed to have gained stars when he wasn't looking. "I guess you could say that," the young boy acknowledged hesitantly. After all, it definitely had a nicer ring to it than just 'being abandoned on a bloody mountain by bloody pigs who deserve bloody Hell for that action and many others'.

Olaf let out a wordless excited exclamation at that, squealing happily and skipping around.

"I went on an adventure too once," he explained happily. "With friends…"

The smile turned wistful at the end and, to Harry, the normally chipper snowman seemed more subdued, as though lost in bittersweet memories. The boy found himself oddly bothered by the unusually somber expression on Olaf's snowy face and resolved to replace it with a happier one.

"I've never had any friends," he admitted softly before cringing internally. _Way to go Potter_, he scolded himself. _For sure, that's how you lift the spirits of a living snowman_.

Oddly enough, it seemed to reach the expected effect. Indeed, the snowman's somber expression was gone, replaced instead by a comically horrified one.

"No… friends? Like… ever?" Olaf asked very slowly as though the idea was unimaginable to him.

At Harry's tiny nod of confirmation, the snowman stopped gaping and instead adopted a wistfully pensive expression. The boy silently remarked once again that such an expression didn't belong in Olaf's face, as though the chipper snowman was meant to always be happy.

As though answering his silent wish, Olaf let out a brilliant smile, almost dazzling Harry with its brightness.

"Don't worry; it's been a long time since I've had friends too!" the snowman said in that chipper tone of his, bouncing forward to walk next to the boy. "But it's okay, because I've got you now!"

"Really?" Harry asked doubtfully. After all, who wouldn't want to be friends with a nice chipper snowman such as Olaf? Except for the fact that he was a snowman, of course. But even the fact that he was made of snow didn't deter Harry from accepting his friendship, especially since it was the first time anyone even wanted to spend time with him. "And how long have you been here," he asked curiously, wondering how old his new friend was.

"Dunno… Since the not-evil ice queen died, I think…"

Harry stopped walking. What?

* * *

***Peeks cautiously* Erm, sorry for the delay?**

**I swear on my non-existent magic that I meant to update this yesterday, really, but I didn't have time to transcribe my notes unto the computer yesterday. Sorry. And I didn't even reveal why Olaf is on that mountain either :'(**

**But at least the chapter's longer this time; I even had to cut it off or else I wouldn't have been able to put it up today.**

**And did you see that? Last time I looked, I had 11 followers, 3 favourites and 4 reviews. And now? Now we're at 34 followers, 19 favourites and 12 reviews! And almost 1400 views! Do you realize how happy that makes me feel! I'd like to thank every single one of you personally here, but it'd take forever so I'll settle for sending you each a thank you message.**

**You're all awesome! Believe it ^.^**

**Tell me what you thought if you've got time, and don't hesitate to PM me if I ever forget to post when I'm supposed to :D **

**See you next Saturday!**


	5. Questioning

Harry's thoughts seemed to be going at a mile an hour in his head: not-evil ice-queen? Why was the "ice" there? Did it mean that she had an ice-like personality? Or was she literally made of ice? Probably the latter, Harry mused, knowing that Olaf was made of snow. Maybe they even had a kingdom full of snowmen, ruled by an ice queen!

Harry felt proudly intelligent for figuring it all out with a minimal amount of information from the snowman he was conversing with. Still, he wanted to get more details than just that. After all, why did Olaf have to specify the "not-evil" part?

"Not-evil ice-queen?" the boy asked with an accompanying raise of the eyebrow.

Olaf finally stopped advancing at that question from the young boy and turned around with a big smile in order to face Harry, who still hadn't moved.

"U-huh!" the oblivious snowman replied in confirmation, nodding his head enthusiastically for emphasis.

Harry let out a sigh of irritation upon realizing that he wasn't likely to obtain the answers he sought unless he decided to take a blunter approach.

"How did she get that title?" the boy asked again, hoping for an answer this time.

"Oh, she didn't get it!" Olaf answered, eyes widening in comprehension. "I'm the only one who calls her that!" he finished with a fond smile and a rather dashing twirl.

The young boy didn't know whether to cry at the snowman's obliviousness, or to laugh at Olaf's antics. He decided to give it a last try, before he would give up on obtaining an answer from the strangely elusive being.

"Yeah, I know, but WHY do you call her that?" he asked at last, a tiny twinge of desperation colouring his tone.

He let a forgotten trace of hope fill his being as he witnessed Olaf stop and put a hand on his chin as though he was in deep thought. Was the snowman really considering his question? Had he perhaps understood the nature of Harry's questioning? With baited breath, the boy watched expectantly as his companion's face cleared with newfound purpose.

"Because she's the not-evil. Ice. Queen!" Olaf said simply with a bemused smile.

Harry groaned, and smothered the sudden urge of banging his head on a wall – there wasn't any in his vicinity anyways – that overcame him. That was it. As it would obviously take way more time than he was willing to spend in order to extract an answer from the perpetually obtuse snowman, Harry would spare himself the headache and simply give up this line of questioning.

"And how did you come to know this… not-evil ice-queen you speak of?" the boy asked after a moment of walking silently. After all, he may have decided to not ask about the significance of the "not-evil ice-queen's" name, but nothing stopped him from trying to obtain an answer about any other inquiries he had, right?

"Well… it's all a reeeeeeally long story, and I'm not sure if you really want to hear it all…" the snowman hesitated, falling silent after his last word.

Harry wanted to reassure his travelling companion – not friend yet, maybe never – that he was entirely willing to hear the story in its entirety and opened his mouth to say so.

"Don't – "

"But this is the perfect place to do so anyways, because we have nothing else to do right now!" Olaf cut him off with an air of growing realization. "And it all started on a mountain…"

The snowman began his tale thus, while Harry looked for a comfortable rock to sit on in order to listen to the story… However, not finding any, he resigned himself to walking some more, even though he could already feel the fatigue settling in.

"What happened on the mountain?" Harry asked eagerly when Olaf seemed to lose himself in memories. The boy had interrupted the snowman's reminiscing both because he was eager to hear the story and because he was hoping that the tale would distract him from the cold seeping into his clothes (the Dursleys hadn't given him a coat of the best quality after all, and he was surprised it had even lasted this long).

And he wasn't disappointed, for the snowman told the story of his tale in his usual grand manner.

* * *

**Sorry for not being here for so long guys! :S **

**Long story short, I got a job and haven't been able to fit the time for actively thinking about my stories since my last update. Things are better now, so I think I might be able to go back to my original schedule... And if not, the wait definitely won't be as long as this one.**

**And I know this chapter is very short, and that's because it's not actually complete (It's around half of what the chapter is supposed to be). I just put it up right now, because I'm kinda stuck on how to tell the tale in itself, so I'm not sure when it'll be finished.**

**Thank you for your patience everyone, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**


	6. Tale

"Well, first I opened my eyes in this big big~ mountain full of snow," Olaf explained as he spread his arms as wide as he could. "That's when I was born, you know?" he added as if he was revealing the secrets of the universe. "Anna said so..."

Briefly wondering as to who this mysterious Anna was, Harry almost missed part of the snowman's explanation concerning his new friends.

"And then I met Anna, and Sven-the-reindeer, and Sven-the-human-who-wasn't-really-named-Sven-but-Kristoff-instead," Olaf explained in one breath to a bewildered young boy.

Harry wisely decided to shut up instead of voicing his confusion, as he had learnt that asking Olaf for clarification would only result in a nonsensical explanation an a bigger headache in the end (re: the not-evil ice-queen argument). He went back to Olaf's story just in time to catch the comment about someone giving him a nose (it didn't make much sense, the boy mused) made out of a carrot.

"And then we had to find Anna's sister 'cause she'd ran away from home, you see. But it was only when we arrived in front of that huuuuge staircase that I realized who she was." Olaf continued in a lower one as though telling Harry an important secret: "Spoilers: the not-evil ice-queen I talked about? It's her!" He then went back to a normal tone of voice and continued as though nothing had happened. "And Anna was very relieved, you know. Because at first, she thought she'd have to climb up up up the mountain to get to the top!"

Harry started and almost tripped on thin air (or maybe it was ice after all): a staircase in the middle of a mountain? Even he didn't need Uncle Vernon to tell him that this wasn't normal.

"So when we got there, we had to leave Sven-the-reindeer (not Sven-the-human-who-was-really-called-Kristoff) downstairs because he couldn't get up the stairs."

"Why couldn't he go up the stairs?" Harry interrupted quickly, hoping to get more details in order to solve the mystery of the not-normal stairs.

"Because he's a reindeer, of course!" Olaf answered as though it was evident, which it probably was, but not to Harry, who was stubborn.

"Yeah, I know, but some cows can go up stairs, can't they?" The boy asked, vaguely remebering a short visit to the farm (the Dursleys hadn't found a good excuse to not let him go to that field trip with the school without avoiding suspicion).

"Of course they can!" Olaf replied as if the answer was once again obvious. "Reindeers are very smart creatures, you know? Sven-the-reindeer hasn't even tried to eat my carrot-nose once during the entire trip!" he continued proudly, reverting to the present tense as he relived his memories.

"Of course," was Harry's response as he absently made a note to install an Olaf-translator when he'd have the time. Because he'd need one if he was to spend an extended amount of time around the overly chipper snowman without losing his marbles.

"And when we get upstairs, it turns out that Anna doesn't want us to get in there, so she says to wait outside so they can get a 'sisterly moment' together," Olaf revealed, making quotation marks with his (wooden) fingers.

"Of course," the snowman continued in a light voice, "it doesn't work and they kinda get in a fight (and when I say 'they', I mean Elsa, 'cause Anna can't fight) where Anna gets ice in her heart."

No doubt seeing the boy's expression at the mention of Anna's injury, Olaf snapped out of his meomory-induced daze and hurried to reassure him.

"But don't worry," he exclaimed as he waved his hands in front of himself. "Everything went fine in the end, because we escaped and I heroically delayed the giant snowman, and Sven-the-not-reindeer's family of Trolls told us that we could heal Anna's heart with true love!"

By that point, Harry's eyebrows had risen past his forehead, reached his hairline, and would have climbed higher if such a thing was possible: giant snowman? Which Olaf, of all people (um... snowmen) delayed? And Trolls? He latched unto the most unbelievable detail he'd found, mentally tossing the toping of healing with true love aside.

"Trolls exist?" he asked, astounded.

"Sure they do!" was Olaf's enthusiastic reply. "They mostly stay rocks though, unless you need to talk to them, then get big noses and feet," the snowman added as an afterthought.

* * *

**Hey! So I'm finally updating this story cuz it's been... yeah, way too long since I last updated. *sigh* Even though I said I'd be getting better, it seems like I'm not, not really. But yeah, sorry for that. Sorry for that chapter too, btw, cuz it might have more typos than usual since I haven't taken the time to really review it yet...**

**But I hope you liked it still ^.^ So review to tell me anything you want, or even just to let me know you read it!**

**Bye~**


	7. Forest

During all that time, Harry and Olaf had kept on walking, which meant that by the time the snowman started talking about the trolls, both of them had come to view with a forest. As though taunting him with the tantalizing warmth that could be found inside the cover of the trees, the wind chose that exact moment to pick up, prompting Harry to walk a bit faster in order to look for protection.

"TREEEEEEEEEEES!" came Olaf's cry as he rushed past the boy, leaving a cloud of snow powder in his wake.

_Took the words straight out of my mouth_, Harry observed absently before following suit. He still didn't understand what was so special about trees to the snowman though. Sure, the forest looked nice, but was it really worth squealing in joy?

The boy shrugged as he approached the mixed patch of wood: trees! He might not be as excited as Olaf, but he knew it was worth feeling at least a bit happier. That meant shelter from both the elements and the more dangerrous animals on the ground. And, luckily for him, Harry had plenty of experience surviving in the wilderness, most of which involved climbing in some way or form. As such, he found himself highly relieved when he saw the woods, tension seeping out of his body like a heavy armour.

The boy couldn't help but let out his first giggle of the day at the scene that greeted his entrance into the woods: Olaf seemed to be engaging in an interesting attempt to climb the smoothest tree in the place. Of course, given the fact that the snowman held little to no muscle strength (they were little more than twigs, after all) and that his body made of snow ouldn't get a steady grip on the trunk, it wasn't surprising that Harry found Olaf's attempts at climbing trees pitiful at best, and downright mortifying at worst.

However, from an outside point of view, the scene was just too hilarious for Harry to stay impassive in front of it. As such, when Olaf fell down from the tree for the fifth time (or more, Harry had stopped counting), he was greeted with the scene of Harry bravely attempting to hide his giggles behind a shaky hand.

"Is there something funny?" The snowman asked as he put his head back on, upside down, from where it had fallen on the ground.

Harry stopped his giggles long enough to put Olaf's head back the way it was supposed to be, but had difficulty findin an acceptable answer to his new - could he be called friend - 's inquiry.

"I saw... something trying to climb a tree," he answered as honestly as he could.

He was taken aback when Olaf's eyes developed - honest to whichever deity was listening to him - bright shiny sparkles.

"Oooooh! Something, you say!? Like a squirrel? I love~ squirrels!"

Harry bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. However, not wanting to hurt his new travelling companion's feelings, he chose to not answer the question as he didn't want to lie either. Shivering slightly from the cold, he sneezed instead, which gave him the perfect idea for a distraction.

Olaf looked up at him - a fact he still couldn't stop being guiltily happy about - confusedly.

"Why?" the snowman asked as though the idea was an unneeded - if somewhat entertaining - effort. "We can just sleep on that patch of snow right there!" he exclaimed proudly as he pointed dramatically at a small snow bench protected by a giant Christmas tree.

Harry hesitated slightly before he answered, trying to find a non-hurtful way of voicing his thoughts.

"It's true that it looks - ah - very comfortable," _and cold, _he continued mentally, "but it looks a tiny little bit too small for you and me to fit, so you should have it and I'll find something else, alright?" he finished, leaving unvoiced the fact that he really didn't want to sleep on _that _and hoping that Olaf would believe him.

It wasn't even really a lie, if he tried to convince himself. Definitely not the whole truth either, but it did look a bit small for the both of them, even though Harry knew he'd be able to fit himself anywhere, courtesy of a misspent youth.

_And now, I even sound like an old man, _the child sighed wearily.

Looking back at the snow bench, Harry let out an involuntary shiver. There was no way he was going to sleep there; he'd tried it once before, out of necessity, and let's just say he'd been lucky to have all his toes remaining by the end of it.

"Oh, don't worry!" Olaf chippered happily. "I don't really need to sleep for long, see?" he added with a twirl, gesturing towards his snow-covered body.

Harry wisely opted to stay silent, knowing that he couldn't keep refusing the kind snowman's invitations without a good reason. He simply nodded uncertainly and distracted his new friend by pretending to have seen a squirrel. True to his predictions, Olaf squealed and ran after it, which left Harry ample time in order to find a good shelter before the sun went down.

_It's going to be a long night, _Harry thought to the sound of Olaf's joyous squealing.

A tiny smile found its way to his face: at least he wouldn't be alone this time.

* * *

**I am alive! And back to my regular updating schedule for the most part. Can I tell you how sorry I am for going off the grid like this guys? And I honestly can't believe the love this story has received since the last chapter went up, I LOVE YOU GUYS! And holy chocolate people! WE'VE HIT 100 FOLLOWERS! THANK YOU SO MUCH!**

**And Harry finally gets to the forest, so he'll probably get the rest of Olaf's story in the next chapter or two :) Stay tuned to see the rest of his adventures ^.^**

**Leave some trace of your presence if you can; I do so love to hear what you think :)**


	8. Fae

When Harry awoke the next day, the first thing he registered was the sensation of warmth on his face. Right after that one, came the abnormal brightness he could perceive through his closed eyelids. Neither of those two sensations was familiar to him in such a setting: his cupboard was a cool, dark place. As such, the only light he usually got while locked in was a thin ray of artificial light threading through the door. Certainly not enough to feel warmth, of all things...

Abruptly, the young boy shot awake. The only times he'd felt those same sensations were when he'd had the misfortune of falling asleep in the middle of his chores! Which also explained the chill he felt at his back: Aunt Petunia was going to punish him for being a lazy freak again!

As Harry frantically swerved his head left and right, momentarily disoriented due to the unfamiliarity of his surroundings, the events of the previous days slowly filtered through his mind. Gulping deep lungfuls of air, the boy attempted to focus on the nature around him to feel more at ease.

However, with the calm came some unwanted doubt.

"I could still have dreamed part of it," Harry reminded himself. After all, who could ever convince themselves of having seen and talked to a living snowman without being completely bonkers? Uncle Vernon would probably consider it the height of freakishness and lock him in his cupboard forever, should he ever learn about it.

Still... It couldn't hurt to hope, right?

"Olaf?" the boy asked hesitantly. No answer.

Before he could fall prey to despair, he reminded himself that the forest was very large and that Olaf could have easily wandered off. 'Or left me...'

"Olaf? Ooooolaaaaaf!" Harry then started walking towards the dense vegetation.

The human's search went nowhere very quickly. Everything seemed so distracting! For instance, it wasn't as though Harry had never seen a tree before, but the one in front of him happened to have a very pretty pattern of frozen sap etched on it. It actually seemed like one of those paintings Aunt Petunia had thought about buying to impress the lady from Number 8, when he tilted his head a bit.

The same head movement enabled Harry to see the frosted pattern etched upon the only surviving leaf of a bush nearby. As the boy approached closer, he could even make out the single snowflake that had landed on it. With the perfectly symmetrical shape made by the six branches as well as the way it glittered in the sunlight, it was really no wonder why Harry marvelled at the snowflake.

"That's the prettiest snowflake I've ever seen."

He continued moving his head at different angles, trying to observe the different colours that could be observed due to the sunlight. The young boy was so focused on his observations that he positively vaulted backwards when the beautiful snowflake seamlessly melted into a tiny flying creature, at least as big as half his hand! Even though the snowflake was smaller than his fingernail.

Now. Harry knew, instinctively, that he had changed since being left on the mountain by the Dursleys. He may not have been there for a day yet, but it seemed like he'd spent weeks in Olaf's presence already, if not years! Olaf talked to him, and let him listen, and didn't think he was too freakish! With such a wonderful friend, it was no wonder the boy had started to open up more, and say whatever came to his mind. Because Olaf would just laugh, and enjoy what Harry had to say.

However, there were also times when the attitude he'd adopted with Olaf caused inconvenients. And that moment when he met the flying creature happened to be one of them.

"You came out of a snowflake! Are you a troll? Because if you are, you're the first one I've ever-"

Harry's sentence trailed off as he pondered upon what he wanted to say next. He'd been about to add "miss" at the end of his sentence, because he'd believed the being to be pink. However, now the he looked closer, the skin also had a blue tinge to it. And blue was a manly colour, right? Uncle Vernon always said so, and scoffed loudly every time he saw pink in the boy's section...

Harry's trail of thought cut off as his eyes opened wide. The troll hadn't sat idly while the boy had been pondering gender. Instead, the being was rapidly becoming bigger. And didn't look too happy either. Backpedaling as quickly as he could, Harry eventually felt his back hit the trunk of a tree.

By that moment, the flying creature had already doubled in size! That still didn't make the troll much bigger than Harry's face, but with a finger thrusting close to his face and the wrathful expression darkening quickly... Yeah, Harry silently cursed the loss of the silent behaviour he'd adopted at his relatives'.

Harry curled his body in anticipation for the violence that had always taken place when a similar expression could be observed on his cousin's face. However, instead of feeling a meaty fist collide with his back, Harry heard instead a series of... chirps?

Startled out of his defensive pose, Harry raised his head in surprise. The sound reaching his ears still didn't change. It wasn't quite a bird's chirp, but whatever the troll was saying certainly wasn't any type of language Harry had ever heard. The boy then hurriedly ducked his head between his knees as he realized the fact that he was staring, and silently berated himself for his thoughtlessness.

_Of course, trolls don't speak English. They're trolls! Stupid, Harry, why would they ever have a point in common with you..._

Perhaps realising that Harry had failed to understand a single word of that angry tirade, the winged being seemed to change language. Or languages, rather. Because Harry was quite sure he'd heard too many different sounds, for the speech to be in a single language. Some of them sounded familiar, like Spanish or German, but others were completely alien, with one of them even sounding like a dolphin!

"Boy, BOY!"

Harry immediately snapped to attention. "Yes Aunt Petunia, I'll be here right away!"

He hurriedly made to stand, only to stop when he realised the words had come from the flying troll. As soon as that fact registered in the boy's mind, he opened his mouth to confirm his guess, but closed it reflexively as he remembered what had happened when he'd done that a few minutes earlier.

"Ugh, you humans! Why couldn't you be more like us fae, I'll never understand," the... fae? replied.

Harry was preparing to apologise again, but the fae shifted, letting more blue highlights show on the skin.

"Because, yes, I am a fae. Faeee, F-A-E, you hear me, you dimwit? Not a troll, not a fairy, a fae! Do I look like a lumpy rock to you? Don't lie, I heard you call me "the prettiest snowflake" ever!"

To punctuate the impassioned speech, the fae had poked him repeatedly on the nose. Harry didn't move and barely dared to breathe in fear of eliciting further wrath from the winged being. Yet, another compliment might soothe some ruffled non-existent feathers, right?

"You were! Are. The prettiest snowflake I've ever seen. And fae too!"

Harry quickly shut his mouth to keep himself from further embarrassing himself. His words seemed to have accomplished their objectives though: the fae no longer seemed intent to brain him and had taken to smirking in satisfaction instead, butterfly wings flapping.

"Of course I am, if even an idiot like you could figure it out. You are lucky I am in such a good mood today. Had I not met that delightful fellow made of snow earlier today, I would have frozen you where you stand for daring to compare me to those pudgy lumps of rocks."

At the mention of a being made of snow, Harry finally managed to offer some input.

"Oh, that's Olaf! He helped me find my way here yesterday. We decided to sleep in this forest together, but now he's not..."

The child trailed off, mildly disturbed at the complete change of expression on the fae's face. Instead of scorn and barely hidden condescension, the fae's features now bore a wide smile and glittering eyes.

"You know him!" The being's hands clapped together enthusiastically. "You must not be so bad after all!"

Unsure as to what would be considered the wisest course of action, Harry adopted his standard behaviour at the Dursleys' and simply nodded silently. He was dearly hoping the fae's expression would return to normal, as such a big smile simply seemed eerie on that face. He was then relieved to turn as a familiar voice rang out.

"Oh, there you are! I've been looking for you a-ll day! And then I thought: Oh no, what if he got lost? And I was all ready to come and help you out, but- Why hello, tiny flying person!"

* * *

**And here is the newest installment of Let It Go, after an 8-months hiatus. Eesh, I am not proud of myself for that one. The chapter's longer than usual, as I've been working on my length a bit during my break. So they should be coming faster. No real update schedule so far, but each story should be updated at least once a month.**

**And I just introduced a new species! The fae may seem incongruous for now, but I do have some outline of a plan for the future. And I can tell you that our newest character's presence will have an importance :) So tell me what you thought, and thanks for all the love guys!**

**-Yoshishisha**


	9. Cold

According to what little Harry managed to understand from the conversation that followed, Olaf and the fae had known each other for quite a while. Which, Harry mused, wasn't too surprising if he reminded himself that they were probably the only talking beings on that deserted mountain. In fact, if the flying being was to be believed, Harry was the first human to be seen in that part of the mountain in two whole generations of foxes. The boy wasn't quite sure how long that was, but it did sound like a very long time.

However, Harry was currently unable to appreciate the beauty of the landscape they were going through. Olaf and the fae (who still hadn't given him a name. Or a gender: how rude!) were happily chatting in front of him as they followed a trail only the two could see, leaving the young boy lagging behind. With each tentative step, Harry felt the cold seep into his threadbare boots a little bit more. His feet were so cold that he could barely feel them anymore, and the same could be said of his uncovered hands.

Barely, the child remembered having melted the snow around his feet that first moment he arrived, but he couldn't for the life of him fathom as to how that had occurred. And until he figured it out, it seemed impossible for him to replicate this display of freakishness.

Not only that, but Harry had also spent at least a whole day on the mountain by now. And his groaning stomach and dry throat kept reminding him of the fact that he hadn't eaten, drunk, or even glimpsed something to eat in the meantime. He couldn't even take a step anymore without regretting the warmth of the Dursley's household. Maybe it hadn't been so bad after all? He had still been fed at least once a day, even if it was only leftovers, and they didn't tend to leave him outside for too long after all. It was even better when he kept his displays of freakishness to a minimum, and…

Harry sneezed abruptly due to the rising cold as an idea came to his mind. Olaf and the fae were freakish too, weren't they? Maybe they could help! Raising his head to see the two of them had turned to see what had kept him behind, he shuffled from foot to foot and avoided their gaze before he gathered his courage to ask them a question.

"Umm…" The words wouldn't leave his mouth. He was trying to find a way to ask a question without seeming to complain, but his mind simply pulled a blank. As though wanting to increase his misery, the wind whistled around him, causing a full body shiver to seize him.

The fae frowned and fluttered closer to him, peering into his eyes. "You look like death swarmed over," she stated, taking a hold of his chin and turning his head left and right.

Harry sniffled, feeling an uncomfortable trail of snot slide down his throat, which had the effect of making him sneeze again.

"He doesn't look too bad. Anna turned blue when she got sick and look!" Harry felt a stick poke him in the cheek and swivelled his head around to see Olaf had approached as well. "He's still pink!" Olaf's mouth turned upside down as he tried to peer closer, almost taking out Harry's eye with his nose. "Oops sorry! Well, he's not looking too pink right now… Maybe just white then."

Harry backed away as the snowman received a harsh wing in the face.

"You useless lump of snow! Look at the human!" Two pairs of beady eyes gazed at Harry unflinchingly, causing him to look anywhere but at his two companions. "Don't you see? He's whiter than you!"

"I don't see what's wrong with that: white is a beautiful colour and I'm sure he likes it, don't you, Harry?"

Before Harry could even think about answering, he had a flying being perched on his head, looming threateningly over the both of them.

"No one has ever died on that mountain," the fae started ominously. "Or at least not on my watch. And I am not letting this ridiculous excuse for a magical being be the first one to do so. Especially not when he is such a polite boy, and hasn't even tried to pull my wings once, unlike some others…"

The child wasn't quite sure what the relevance of that comment was until he saw Olaf's expression settle into what could be called a wince. "I just thought you were a flower," the snowman tried to defend himself, to no avail.

Instead of replying, the only one of their group able to fly fluttered forward, leaving the two others to stand still in indecision. "What are you waiting for? We do need to get you to a shelter, boy. And that won't happen with the both of you standing there like useless dunderheads."

Harry hesitantly looked towards Olaf, then the fae, before stepping forward onto a trail only the winged being seemed to follow.

It was still quite a long amount of time by Harry's perception until he finally starts to see through the trees. As calm as his stomach had been for the entirety of this adventure, it had seemed to grow steadily louder since the promise of a shelter: almost as though anticipating the food to come. Sniffling for what was at least the twentieth time now, the boy attempted to ignore what seemed to be a budding headache to the best of his ability. Olaf had been humming merrily for the past… Harry wasn't quite sure, but it certainly didn't help his headache.

So distracted was he by his musings that the young boy barely avoided bumping into Olaf where the snowman had stopped.

"There we are!" The fae announced from the cover of the trees. "The key to bringing you to safety!"

Harry looked over blearily, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. Apparently, Olaf didn't share the boy's propensity for blending in the background, for he ran out to meet the ones the fae's keen eyes had detected. _Humans. _Harry realised as the fear set in. _People. They're sending me back! _Eyes widening, the boy attempted to backtrack into the cover of the woods, only to trip over a root and tumble down a heap of snow. There was no way he was going to be undetected now.

* * *

**And here is the latest chapter! I do seem to be somewhat respecting my self-imposed schedule so far, even though I am a few days late... Oops?**

**So it now seems like a few humans have decided to brave the mountain, throwing Harry into a nervous tumble down the snow. Next time we'll see who those humans are (no one we know yet) and what role they'll play in Harry's life (very important).**

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**-Yoshishisha**


	10. Meeting the humans

"You've neglected to tell me talking snowmen existed," Harry heard the woman breath out to her companion as Olaf ran out to meet them.

"I-it's a very advanced work of transfiguration; I doubt even my professor could've done it…"

Avoiding the woman's accusing glare, the stuttering man approached Olaf to observe him better.

Standing up from the heap of snow he'd fallen into, Harry tried to back away slowly even as he felt his nose begin to itch a little. _Hold it in; hold it in_, the boy repeated the mantra in his head. Nervously, he raised a hand to his face in order to stop the sneeze from coming out, but it was too late.

"ACHOO!" The noise was so loud that the boy wouldn't have been surprised to feel the mountain rumble under his feet.

Abruptly, he felt pinned under the weight of two heavy gazes.

"Sweet Merlin," the man let out, having torn his gaze away from Olaf. "Are you lost, child?"

Harry stood his ground as the man approached. Running away from Uncle Vernon had never worked, and only made him angrier once he'd caught up to him. With the snow and the fact that the stranger seemed faster than his uncle? He really had no chance at all.

The child hadn't realised he was shivering until a warm hand had settled in his. Harry blinked. When had the man gotten so close? It really wasn't like him to lose track of someone's presence like that. The boy tried not to lean into the warmth of the hand that had taken his, as it only made the cold spreading through his bones more obvious.

As he nervously directed his gaze towards the man's shoulder (Uncle Vernon disliked it when Harry didn't look at him, but hated it even more when the boy dared cross his eyes), the child distantly heard the sounds of Olaf's chatter.

"And then there were rocks! And not-Kristoff called them family, so I told Anna to run away from the obviously insane boy, but guess what?"

Harry tried as best as he could to turn his gaze towards his friend without losing sight of the man's shoulder in order to better follow Olaf's conversation.

"What?" the woman replied with what seemed to be an… amused? Smile.

"They were not really rocks!"

The lady let out a loud gasp, one that seemed about as real as when Aunt Petunia marveled at a piece of gossip she'd already heard. And Harry flinched slightly again at the reminder that those people (as nice as they seemed) would probably bring him back to his relatives'.

"I wonder if I should be worried about your friend stealing my wife away."

Harry swirled around quickly as he realised that he'd let the man get away from his eyesight. He then averted his eyes, almost giving himself whiplash, when his gaze met the one of the currently crouched adult. Opting for silence, he fervently hoped the man wouldn't punish him for Olaf's personality.

However, the man's gaze didn't ebb away and the heavy silence floated between the two of them, only interspersed by the soft murmur of Olaf's chatter. Harry interpreted the silence as misplaced anger and jealousy and pushed himself to speak on behalf of his friend.

"Do-don't punish him! He's just being nice! A-and, umm… He- I- I'm sure he doesn't want- to steal her… Your- wife? I mean, umm…"

Harry inwardly despaired at the stutter he heard in his voice. Show no weakness! That was the first rule when dealing with adults! Do what was wanted of him, and do not (under any circumstances) question authority. "S-sorry... Sir."

Bracing himself against the rebuttal that was sure to follow, Harry hunched in an effort to make himself a less attractive target. Maybe his apology had been accepted?

It seemed like his loud outburst had surprised the man though, for he heard only silence before footsteps crunched in the snow to his left. A mitten covered hand appeared in his eyesight and lifted his chin towards a blue penetrating gaze. "What has my idiotic husband done again? Darling, I swear, if you somehow broke this one as well…"

Harry swallowed a sneeze nervously, knowing that anything he said would somehow be turned against him. And, if anything, sneezing in that beautiful woman's face (not that there was much he could see, what with her hat covering her hair, and a scarf hiding her neck) would surely make the upcoming punishment even worse.

"Wai- wha-?" To Harry's eternal surprise, the man spluttered (spluttered! Men did not splutter!) before letting forth a confusing slew of words. "Wait, kiddo. Bloody hell, warn a bloke. I was only joking! I know my wife wouldn't leave me for a bloody snowman!" There, he turned towards Olaf. "Not that it isn't awesome that you can talk. And walk. And apparently have opinions and tell stories, and I'd really like to meet the Transfiguration Master who had a hand in creating you, because bloo-"

"Michael Elias Carter." A sharp voice cut off the rambling, stopping the steady widening of Harry's eyes and causing the release of his chin.

The man flinched. "Merlin, not the bloody full name," he muttered, only audible to Harry's ears. Although, judging from the woman's opening mouth, he might not have been the only one to hear that. Louder, the stranger replied. "Not that I don't have the most amazing wife, and if she cheated on me, I would absolutely deserve it. Because I trust her judgement and know that she'd have a good reason to do. Although I do hope she would tell me beforehand so that I could attempt to remediate to the situation in some way or another before she eloped with the snowman. Not that being left for a bloody snowman wouldn't hurt, even one as talented and-"

"Language, darling," the woman said, having turned towards her husband. "And the second part of that little speech was utterly unnecessary." She cut off the man's response with a raised hand. And how Harry wished he had the power to do that! He'd only ever seen uncle Vernon perform that motion, and even then it was with a raised fist instead, which didn't look nearly as graceful as this hand did.

However, his thoughts ground to a halt as the lady's gaze focused upon him. And it was terrifying! After all, he'd just seen that woman's words reduce a man to whimpered apologies, and her hands stop him in his tracks: that must mean she was at least as strong as Uncle Vernon. Did she also wield a frying pan like Aunt Petunia did? He almost voiced his question, but was stopped in his tracks by a coughing fit that left his head throbbing faintly.

"The poor thing is sick, and here you are, making a fool out of yourself while he is positively freezing." he heard her say as he felt a hand running circles against his back. He didn't think he'd imagined the note of disapproval in her voice, but unable to help it, Harry found himself leaning slightly into the touch.

"I-I'm fine," he said hurriedly once the words registered in his addled mind. She was probably thinking about all the effort it would take to make sure his condition didn't get worse. "There's n-no need to… to waste your con-concern for me."

The young child didn't miss the exchange of gazes that went on between the two adults. However, he could not grasp its meaning, nor the consequences it would have for him; instead, he soon had a faceful of a worried Olaf.

"You're really really white," the snowman fretted, waving his wooden hands around in an attempt to do… something. "You're almost turning blue! Quick, fire, and we need to find your true love, fast!"

Harry couldn't even muster the will to smile at the snowman's antics due to the cold assailing him. It was almost as though his body had been able to ignore the cold as long as he didn't consciously realise it existed…

The boy blinked when a warm and soft object was wrapped around his head. The man was crouching in front of him, having taken the child's hands in his bigger ones.

"Child? Lad, open your eyes! Dear, they're not supposed to close their eyes if they're cold, am I right? Eyes open, lad, eyes open!"

The child opened his eyes blearily, blinking in confusion. He hadn't even realised that they'd been closed! Slowly, he felt himself being lifted and belatedly became conscious of the fact that his feet were no longer touching the ground.

"Lad we're going to bring you somewhere warm, alright?"

Harry attempted to protest, his gaze naturally shifting towards Olaf. He couldn't quite focus on his companion's features though, as his sight seemed to be getting blurry as time went on.

"And we won't forget your friend either, of course," a female voice answered. "Why don't you hand him over to me, Precious: I'm rather good at side-along."

Frowning in confusion at the nonsensical sentence, the boy temporarily felt the bite of the wind until he was once again surrounded by warmth. "Now this might feel a bit strange," the woman said. "But don't worry, I'll bring somewhere warmer."

Before he could even muster the words to express his confusion, Harry felt as though a giant hand tried to squish him like a bug and felt his breath quicken before he suddenly found himself surrounded by warm air.

Then, his world went black.

* * *

**Huh, am I late again? Yes I am :S**

**So Harry finally gets off the mountain! Because as fun as meeting Olaf and the fae was, the mountain kinda limited the interesting stuff that could happen. And now he's met humans as well :D **

**-Yoshishisha**


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